“For someone who was a peaceful fisherwoman just a couple of weeks ago, I think I’m beginning to get used to that sound,” Telu observed over the comm.
“Kaitan Heritage, you are in violation of royal airspace, are harboring known fugitives, and have kidnapped Prince Nevarian Dracorte.” The latter assumption was generous of them, but what followed was less so. “Proceed to Containment Block One immediately, or you will be disabled and boarded.”
Qole and I glanced at each other and she raised her eyebrow. I nodded, and with an almost imperceptible adjustment on the controls, she put the Kaitan into a near-hover.
“Now, Eton,” she ordered.
In the turret, Eton locked his own weapon systems onto the lead fighter, and I didn’t have to hear it to imagine the warning that sounded off in the pilot’s helmet. That’ll wake them up.
As we had hoped, the starfighters slowed to nearly hovering themselves. I doubted they were eager to attack the ship they knew carried the royal heir, traitor or not, and I was sure there was a great deal of uncertainty about how to proceed.
I pressed the inter-ship comm button at one of the empty stations on the bridge. “Thank you for your suggestion. This is Prince Nevarian Dracorte. Please listen very carefully to what I have to say.”
I paused and took a deep breath. If Telu had been successful, this wasn’t only broadcasting to the fighters in front of us, but to every comm channel in Dracorva that she could get us on. And what I was about to say would be treason, pure and simple. I could still go back, right now. I would face consequences, but it would be possible.
Looking at Qole, her gaze fixed on me, I realized I had no desire to go back to the way things had been.
“There is a man from Alaxak being held prisoner in my family citadel. His name is Arjan Uvgamut, and he came here to help us of his own free will.” I paused again, my chest constricting. “Now, through no choice of his own, he is being detained as the subject of inhumane experiments.
“We all believe that we stand for something greater than ourselves. I know that every one of you is loyal to my family. But cruelty isn’t an ideal any of us believe in. And his family is here, now, and they are willing to lay down their lives to bring their brother home, just as you would for yours.” I glanced at Qole. Her eyes were staring straight ahead, bright with unspilled tears, and her knuckles were white on the controls.
“So today you have a choice, and it will be one of the most important you ever make. You can let us pass, and the systems will know that the Dracortes do not stand for cruelty, that we are true to our ideals, and that we believe in justice, not expedience. Or…” Now it was my turn to clench my fist so hard my knuckles turned white. “You can fight me. But if you fight me, ask yourself what you are standing for. And be prepared to face the full consequences, because we will not hold back.”
I turned off the comm, my heart beating faster. I’d just told the world that I was prepared to hurt the people who had served me, who had grown up with me, who had raised me. That I believed my betrayal was justified.
Father had felt his betrayal of our ideals was justified too. But Qole had made me see the true meaning of those ideals. I had to act on what I believed was right and leave others to choose their paths for themselves.
Those men could choose; I had just given them that chance.
Arjan’s ability to choose had been taken away by my family. And it was high time we gave it back.
The Kaitan tilted, and we plummeted toward the starfighters below.
“Remember, everyone,” Qole said, “they’ll probably only try to disable us because Nev is on board. Eton, get their attention and keep it. Hang tight, it’s going to be a rough run.” She jerked her head at me. “You should get to your station.”
The gravitational dampeners hummed and rattled as they desperately fought our descent. I moved to my own station on the bridge, strapping myself in. Qole was right, they would probably use photon guns that were dialed back, chipping away at us until we were forced to land. Probably.
Like a swarm of insects, the starfighters filled our viewport and a hail of energy bolts lanced out toward us.
The Kaitan was already corkscrewing out of the way before the fighter pilots had even finished depressing their triggers. Timing it perfectly, Qole brought us under the formation and drove for its center.
I heard the grating roar of Eton’s mass driver, the shriek of photon interference, and was thrown against the back of my seat as Qole swept us away toward the citadel.
“Nev, I need eyes. Are they buying it?”
I scanned the feeds that were normally used for Shadow fishing. “Affirmative, Captain. We’ve got a dozen very angry rapier-class fighters about to chew our engines apart.”
“One of our aft stabilizers is disabled.” Basra’s voice was calm as always, but there was an edge to it. “I’m routing more power to the others, but I don’t know if they’ll handle the strain.”
Qole rolled out of the sweep and climbed straight into the atmosphere above the citadel, the Kaitan’s engines howling at maximum thrust. “Telu, this would be the perfect time. They aren’t paying attention.”
“Hold on, Captain, there’s a tiny glitch. Two more seconds.”
“Glitch—you were supposed to be ready!” Eton yelled, his voice almost drowned out by the continuous bellow of weaponry. “We’re going to be a glitch in another second!”
Qole idled the engines and the Kaitan looped around in the sky, juking to avoid the fire directed at it as we pointed straight down.
“Your two seconds are up,” Eton growled.
“Drink it in,” Telu replied smugly, and through the viewport of the Kaitan I saw what she meant.
The citadel and the mountains were spread in vivid sunlit relief before us. Smoke trailed from a spiraling starfighter that Eton had somehow managed to shoot down.
And then the drones arrived, scores of drones. Mining drones, transportation drones, drones covered in trees and vegetation, decommissioned so long ago I couldn’t recognize the models. They streamed underneath us, descending from the mountains straight toward the citadel in a terrifying river.
“Great Collapse,” someone—maybe me—breathed over the comm.
“Yes,” Qole hissed as she poured power into the engines. “Telu, you are the best.”
I couldn’t argue. Telu had spent a lifetime learning how to temporarily reroute drones during Shadow runs, something others would go to the Academy to learn. But to deploy a script ordering so many at once, of such a variety, onto a single task, was on an entirely different scale of skill. Now it was a question of her ability to thwart the efforts of the royal security team as they attempted to override her programming. Given her muttering about encryption and hashes, I didn’t envy them.